Page 150 of Steel
“Why?”
“I just need to see something. I don’t think she would have left without a plan to go somewhere. Ms. Anita is a stickler for planning and organization. She would have gone somewhere where she felt she was safe and comfortable. I just need to see if I missed something.”
My mother nodded. “Okay, baby.”
She put the car in drive and pulled back onto the street. The drive to Ms. Anita’s only took about fifteen minutes from where we were. When we pulled into the driveway, all I could do was stare at the house. Anger surged within me, and it was a fight to keep it at bay.
Getting out of the car, I walked up to the front door, keys in hand. My parents were right behind me. Unlocking the door, I stepped inside. My eyes scanned the living room. The place felt so damn gloomy now.
“What exactly are you looking for?” my mother asked.
“I . . . I don’t know.”
She sucked in a deep breath. “You have to think like her. She’s a grieving mother. If I were in her shoes, I would have taken him somewhere that was close to my heart. Can you think of any place like that? Maybe something Donna told you about her childhood.”
I shook my head. “Nah . . .” I thought for a moment. “There might be something out back. The shed I found her in, it was like a shrine. It was set up like Donna’s childhood bedroom.”
I led them through the house and out the back door to the backyard where the shed was. The moment I laid eyes on it, flashbacks of finding Donna in that freezer plagued my mind. All I could see was her frozen, dead body lying there, perfectly preserved. I swallowed hard as I twisted the knob and opened the door. Stepping inside, I flipped the light switch, illuminating the space.
It was crazy how she managed to replicate the shed to look exactly like the room I’d seen so many times when we came over here. It was as though she took a snapshot to make sure everything was perfectly in place.
While my parents looked around, I walked the space, trying to replay old conversations with Donna in my mind. We used to talk about so much that I knew there had to be a memory in there somewhere.
“Think, think, think . . .” I coached myself.
I looked around at the pictures on the walls. Some were of Donna and her friends. Some were of her and her mother or father. Some were with the three of them. I stepped closer to examine each picture carefully, praying that something stuck out. When I got to the family collage of her and her parents, I noticed that they were taken in different years, but always in the same space.
As I went to say something, my mother handed me a small notebook.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Donna’s diary.” She flipped through the pages. “You see how the handwriting changed. Looks like she started writing entries after Donna’s death.”
I took the notebook from her and started reading some of the passages. Mostly it was filled with letters to Donna about how much she missed her. She talked about KJ, and how he was progressing. And she also expressed her grief. Most of thewords she wrote were heartbreaking. It was clear that she was drowning. As I read a particular entry, my eyes widened.
“What the fuck . . .” I mumbled.
“What is it?” Pops asked.
“She . . .” I swallowed hard. “Her husband is buried in the backyard.”
“Oh my God!” my mother exclaimed.
“She um—she said she had to bring him home to rest. Fuck!”
I closed the book for a moment. This woman more unstable than I thought. Not only had she dug up her daughter’s body, but she dug up her husband too. I thought about all the times she sent me pictures of her and KJ in her flower garden. This whole time, he was playing on top of his grandfather’s grave. It made me sick.
I closed the diary and gave it back to my mother.
“I gotta find him,” I said, shaking my head. “Look at this.” I pointed to the photo collage. “Same place, every year. That has to be something, right?”
“Looks like a cabin,” Pops said, inspecting the photo. “Did they have a vacation home somewhere?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know if it was theirs. I think I remember Donna telling me they took a trip every summer somewhere, but I can’t remember the location.”
Pops pulled out his phone and messed around on it for a second before I heard my sister’s voice.
“Hey, Daddy. Everything okay?”
